


Right in front of my salad

by filthyhotsock



Series: I wanna be yours [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Dean is 13 and it's clear they've been fucking for much longer than that), (in the sense that Dean is 13), (not that it particularly matters), Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Always Female Dean Winchester, Always Female Sam Winchester, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, Extremely Underage, F/M, Incest, Infidelity, Parent/Child Incest, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:38:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12544900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthyhotsock/pseuds/filthyhotsock
Summary: Forthe prompt: John casually slipping his hand up Dean's dress and fingering her under the table at dinner. Except it's not subtle, Mary definitely notices, and John knows she knows, but no matter how much she hates it there's nothing she can do to stop it.(Unrealistically) enthusiastically consensual girl!Dean/John at the dining room table while Mary stews.





	Right in front of my salad

**Author's Note:**

> Because this prompt presses all my buttons, but the first fill was non-con, and it has bummed me out every time I've come across it. Be the change you want to see in the world, right?
> 
> Inspiration/recs: [_Birthday Sex_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5056624) and [_Keeping Up With the Morgans_](http://sockitgood.livejournal.com/5473.html?format=light).

He didn't want to rub it in Mary’s face, honestly. It was just so hard to keep his hands to himself when Dean was squirming in her chair like that. They had a strict rule that she couldn’t touch herself at the dinner table. If he indulged her like that, she’d too easily do it at a restaurant or a friend’s dinner table, and, at thirteen-years-old, she was way too old to explain it away as just a kid exploring her body. But that didn't stop her from wriggling in her chair, trying to get all the friction she could from the velvet-covered seat. Several moms had asked John if she had trouble going to the bathroom. He always wanted to tell the she had trouble keeping her hands of her little baby cunt now that she had been introduced to all it's pleasures, but so far he’d managed to restrain himself.

John couldn’t pretend it was Dean’s womanly body that drove him wild. Even now, she hardly looked like a teenager, and it was even less true when they first started fooling around. She was tall and, after years of soccer and gymnastics, she was skinny as a beanpole, except where baby fat still clung to her cheeks and thighs. Her breasts were perfectly formed little half lemons with fat red nipples he could hardly keep out of his mouth, but they were nothing like the D-cups he used to go for.

Dean’s face was gorgeous, though, that was certain – huge green eyes, soft brown hair that followed her freckles down to her collarbones, and a mouth absolutely made for sucking cock. John’s best friend, Bobby, who wouldn’t know polite conversation if it slapped him in the face, had remarked on that when Dean was just a toddler.

Hell, maybe that’s when it started, when the seed was planted. It started for real when Dean wanted a new swimsuit. She was still young enough that Mary bought clothes for Dean without her there to choose things or try them on. She only requested that it be a white bikini – her first grownup swimsuit. Mary got a few and Dean asked her daddy to help her choose.

They used the big master bathroom for the fashion show because, “You have to see what it looks like wet!”

He came in to her standing in the empty bathtub wearing the first swimsuit. It was immediately obvious that it was too small. There was so little fabric overall that at first glance she looked naked. All John could see was miles of pale, freckled skin, her arms and torso and long legs, her precious feet, toes painted baby pink. The little triangles of the top barely covered her areoles and he could only imagine how it would have covered a fuller-figured young woman. And the bottoms… they technically covered her tiny, bald pussy, but they stretched so tightly that he could make out her pussy lips clearly when he leaned close, even what looked like the hood of her clitoris…. he probably shouldn’t have been leaning so close.

“It doesn’t fit,” he said, his voice husky.

“How can you tell?” she said. “I did it up, didn’t I?”

He stood and got in the tub with her. He turned her so she faced the full-length mirror right behind the tub. Already, he loved the look of her small, smooth body against his bigger, furry one. He put his hands on her hips, so his thumbs and forefingers made a diamond around her mons, not quite touching her  _there_. “See how you can make out every detail of your pretty pussy?” He’d never called it that to her before, didn’t notice. “That’s not good. It will make men want things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Everything. They’ll want to touch you and to taste you and put their cocks inside you.”

“Really?” He nodded. Slowly, she turned around to face him. He didn’t give her much space, so she was rubbing her body against his the whole way. She was the tallest girl in her class, but still a foot shorter than him. “What if we got it wet?”

That was a terrible idea. It could only make the swimsuit more inappropriate. He got out of the tub and picked up the handheld shower, adjusting the water till it wasn’t freezing, but it wasn’t quite warm, either. He sprayed her breasts, watching her nipples pebble up and gleam bright red under the bikini top. The water dripped down her front, and he kneeled down to watch her swimsuit bottoms go from translucent to completely transparent, the details of her bare little pussy as explicit as if she’d been wearing nothing at all.

“Is that better?”

“No,” he said, “much worse.”

She spread her legs a little farther apart and, subtly, thrust her hips forward so her hot, wet cunt nearly brushed his mouth. “What do you mean, men will want to taste me?”

That was all the invitation he needed. John ripped those bikini bottoms off of her with a _snap_ of the string closures and pressed his tongue to his daughter’s pussy for the first time. He’d never wanted anything more in his life, and he was a man of strong desires. He’d fucked his wife twice in the past twenty-four hours. But nothing, he was sure then, would taste as sweet as Dean.

Mary caught them right away, with little Dean sitting on her father’s face in that bathroom. Honestly, if she hadn’t, he might have been able to stop, convinced himself it had been an accident that could never happen again. But once the cat was out of the bag, why shouldn't they enjoy themselves?

Mary was horrified by the whole thing, of course. He wondered, sometimes, how much she hated it because he’d stopped fucking  _her_ , passed over for her own daughter. But that was a snake eating its own tail because he wouldn’t have stopped fucking her, probably, if she wasn’t so offended by him fucking Dean. Dean was a better lay than her mother, though, better than anyone he’d ever been with – the only one he’d got to train himself, and always ready to feel his hands on her.

Once in awhile Mary built up the courage to threaten to call child services on him, but they both knew that would never work with Dean. Maybe if he was really molesting her, but Dean wanted it just as much as he did. She knew exactly what she did with Daddy that no one else could know, and she was terrific at lying about it.

“What did you do this weekend?” her eighth grade teacher had asked her once, while John was holding her in his arms and running his thumb over her panties-covered pussy lips, well hidden by the back of her skirt. She was getting a little big to be held like that, but John figured she’d never be too big to be in his arms.

“Daddy took me horseback riding! I was riding him all weekend,” she said, not a slip-up, but a joke she knew she could get away with.

“The horse?” said Ms. Mills.

“Mm-hm. My butt is pretty sore now. But it feels good, too.”

“Sounds like you’re a natural cowgirl!”

Dean burst into giggles, and John couldn’t help but smile, too. If Ms. Mills only knew.

Little Sammy could be Mary’s ace in the hole with a child abuse defense, except for how well trained Dean had her little sister. During one of Mary’s tirades, Sam ran into the room shouting, “Just stop it! You know what I’d say to them? I’d say, ‘Mommy told me I’d never see her again if I didn’t agree with her.’”

Mary started crying at that. John felt badly about the whole thing, but she could leave if it bothered her so much. She’d just have to leave the girls, too. John wasn’t giving them up for anything. Sam was still too young to play with them yet, just turned nine, but Dean said she couldn’t wait to have another playmate, to share Daddy’s cock with another deserving pussy.

So Dean wasn’t allowed to touch herself at the dinner table – or basically anywhere that wasn’t a bed or a bathtub, just to be safe. But John could touch her. He didn't need to very often. Dean was usually well-pleasured right before breakfast and dinner, happy to take a break to eat before getting in his arms again, and it was a rare restaurant where they could get away with it – the most memorable time being at an empty diner in the middle of the corn belt where the man behind the counter knew exactly what was happening in their booth and just kept wiping down the countertop with a bland smile.

But she could be insatiable. Sometimes it was John’s own fault. A fresh butt plug was sure to make her horny all day. She needed several hours without clamps on her nipples to stop obsessing over her budding breasts. And John couldn’t keep her from coming if he didn’t want her to be a surly, squirming mess, red in the face and rubbing on absolutely anything she could find that wasn’t her forbidden fingers. Of course, sometimes that’s exactly what he wanted. She was gorgeous like that, aching and desperate for him.

Usually, by dinnertime, Dean had come three or four times since waking up that morning.

Today, he hadn’t let her come once.

“Daddy—” Dean moaned. She wasn’t allowed to whine for sex, but she could whine sexually for something else. Anyone who thought this little girl sounded like a slut in heat just had a filthy mind. “Please pass the carrots?”

“Here you are, princess.”

He handed her the platter. Dean served herself and sucked a long, orange carrot between those cock sucking lips of hers with a porn star moan. Shit, that was hot. The carrot was a quarter the width of his cock and it didn’t really look that much like Dean sucking him, but—

Mary slammed her hand down on the table. “For god’s sake—”

No one even looked at her. Honestly, she shouldn’t serve such phallic food if she didn’t want her daughter to behave like this.

“Daddy, please—”

“You want something else?”

Dean nodded furiously.

“Sammy,” he said to his younger daughter, “are you done with dinner?” She nodded, wiping her face. “Go watch _My Little Pony_ for a while. Dean and I will join you soon.”

Sam jumped to press a little kiss to his cheek and then scampered off. They all loved it when Sam watched John and Dean play, but she was getting anxious to join now, and she just wasn’t old enough. No reason to torture the poor girl.

He put his hand on Dean’s knee. She spread her legs about as wide as they could go, leaning back to present her pussy to him. Her pink pleated skirt was quite modest, flowing loose over her knees even when she was sitting like this. He tossed it up and to the side so he’d only have to bend over a little to see her underwear, printed with pastel birds and flowers. Some days Dean insisted on going commando. Others John could tell she liked the feeling of him pushing her panties to the side to touch her bare pussy, of staying wet and sloppy between her legs all day. Some mornings, after he woke her up with his tongue and cock, he’d come on her pussy lips, get her off one more time by rubbing his come into her clit, and then send her to school with it soaking through her underwear all day.

Slowly, he moved his hand up the smooth, pale skin of her leg. Her knees had gotten knobby, but her thighs still had that sweet chubbiness she’d been born with. He reached her most upper thigh, where it met the mound of her cunt. That strip of skin was the softest thing he’d ever felt. Dean was trembling in anticipation, squeezing her knife and fork in a parody of eating dinner, trying not to break the rules and touch herself, make him touch her faster. He ran one fingertip over the frilly waist of her panties. He trailed it over her mons, and up again, pressing just hard enough to feel the edges of her pussy lips on either side.

Finally, he rewarded her, slipping his hand inside and touching her bare pussy – but still avoiding her clit and gently rubbing her hot, wet folds instead. After a moment he truly gave in, holding his hand on the chair like, as he’d come to think of it, a human rabbit vibrator, two fingers for Dean to fuck herself on, and his thumb held out and ready to rub her clit.

“Oh,” she whimpered as she sat up and thrust down on his fingers, “thank you, Daddy.”

John leaned back and continued eating his dinner. If looks could kill... well, Mary would have killed him long ago, but she was doing her best again, this evening. He smiled at her as their daughter moaned like a banshie, sucking her fingers into his mouth.

John expected Dean to make herself come on his hand quickly enough, but after a few minutes Dean said, “Mm – really want your cock, Daddy.”

Damn it. He could never resist fucking his daughter, but he wasn’t half done with dinner and if he left the room now, Mary would throw away the whole thing out of spite. As long as they were all sitting at the table, she would be determined to suffer in (relative) silence. This was excellent pot roast. Well, like most things, this was her own fault. If she didn’t want to see him fuck their daughter at the dining room table, she shouldn’t punish him for doing it in another room.

Heaving a sigh, John pushed his sweats down just enough to free his cock and balls and patted his hip. “C’mere, then, pumpkin.”

Dean bounded out of her chair. “Oh, goodie!” She pushed her panties down her thighs and John picked her up by the waist, sitting her on his lap with practiced ease, reverse cowgirl-style. She squatted with her feet on either side of the chair and slowly – _so_ slowly – sat down on John’s cock. Her skirt could have covered the view, but she held it up so her mother could see every inch of John’s cock get swallowed up by her tiny pussy. She was so tight, always, the tightest pussy he’d ever felt, but she seemed to relish the stretch as much as he did. He had a _very_ large cock, and he would have waited years to fuck his _very_ little girl, probably, except for the day he woke up to her determinedly sitting on his morning wood. She loved to be told what to do, but Dean had held the reigns in their sexual relationship since it began. Once she was fully seated, his hairy balls tucked into the folds of her cunt, right where she liked them, Dean let her feet drop so she was straddling John’s thighs. She finally let her skirt drop, too, and from an outside perspective they must have looked like any little girl sitting on her father’s lap.

“Just wanna sit for a minute,” Dean said.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he said. She turned to smile at him and he couldn’t help but thread his fingers through her hair, lean down and kiss her. Her mouth was still so small, it always felt like he was pillaging her with his tongue. But it was clear how much she loved it by the way she moaned and sucked on it like a miniature cock, and thrust her own small tongue between his lips.

The doorbell rang. Mary got up to answer it.

He hoped she’d send whoever it was away, but you never knew with Mary, so he released Dean’s mouth, smoothed her hair, wiped their combined spit off her chin, and said, “Careful.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath and adjusting her skirt. If you looked close enough, you could see the outline of her panties stretched between her spread legs, but who would look that close? It was safer than kicking them to the floor.

Sure enough, soon two steps of footsteps were making their way toward the kitchen. “And then,” Dean said, “it turns out Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon get _their_ cutie marks, but Apple Bloom _didn't_ and they tease her for having a _blank flank_ and – oh, hi there, Mr. Shurley.”

It was their neighbor, Chuck, a guy in his late thirties who thought he’d be married by now, but had never quite figured out the roadmap for how to get there. He had quite the crush on their whole family, and on Mary in particular.

“Hi, Dean. Hi, John! Sorry for interrupting dinner. I’ve got a date tomorrow night and I wanted to borrow Mary’s kale salad recipe.”

“No problem at all, Chuck. That recipe’s a real winner.” John held out his hand, still a little wet from Dean’s pussy, and Chuck leaned down to shake it.

“Sorry for not standing up,” John continued. “Got my hands full.”

“No, no, please,” Chuck said. “I can see that. Most beautiful sight in the world, father-daughter bonding.”

Dean beamed and John said, “I think so, too.”

Mary was fuming now. She was such a foolish woman to think that this would do anything. For all she couldn’t control herself during family dinner, Dean could sit perfectly still on his cock and recount an episode of _My Little Pony_ forever if she had a good enough reason for it. And John wasn’t about to give away his hand. She’d have to flip up Dean’s skirt and show Chuck exactly where father and daughter were bonding, exactly where Dean’s pussy was split open at the root of his cock, to make something happen here, and she was too chickenshit to do it.

So instead she’d pull a card out of her recipe box and chit chat while Dean clenched her cunt muscles around John’s cock and John rubbed her belly where he could just make out the bulge of his cock head through her skin, until Chuck left.

As soon as Chuck and his wife disappeared into the kitchen, John leaned in to bite Dean’s earlobe and and whisper, “You can bounce a few times if you want to.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. She sat up and down, up and down, not pulling off him too far, but enough to pull on his cock and hit her G-spot just right. She did it with a little corkscrew twist so her clit could grind down against the base his cock and they groaned softly together, not daring to kiss again, but pressing close, so close… he licked his lips and just barely caught the edge of hers with his tongue. She kept grinding down on his cock in little circles, not breaking eye contact with him for a second.

"Dean!" Mary called.

That bitch. Dean groaned, trembling a little as she sat up. This was another roadblock on her desperate mission to come, but she was a trooper.

"Oh, don't interrupt them," Chuck said, and stuck his head out the kitchen door. "Never mind, honey. Your mom was just bragging about your new gymnastics routine."

John nodded, wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling her against him again. "She's amazing. How about we come over and show you tomorrow, huh?"

"Sounds great!" He disappeared into the kitchen again.

John kissed Dean on the temple and gave her clit a few rubs through her skirt in apology. 

“Wanna fuck you, Daddy,” she whispered.

“I know you do, baby. You’re being so good, not moving too much.”

“It’s so hard. Want you so bad.”

He cupped her jaw and kissed her, couldn’t help it, just a few lingering pecks that any father would give his daughter – surely. Wouldn’t he?

Dean was calmly leaning against him again by the time Chuck and Mary came back into the dining room. The only evidence of their arousal, if you cared to look, was how damp their shirts had become where they pressed against each other – begging to be stripped off, in John’s opinion.

“So then Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo make a club, called the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and—”

Chuck waved as Dean continued storytelling, hurrying out, not wanting to interrupt their family night any further. Real nice guy. John took a bite of pot roast and waved back. Mary glowered at them all as she saw their neighbor to the door.

As soon as he heard the front door shut, John cupped Dean’s ass in his hands and lifted her up, up, up, until only his fat cock head was left inside her, being squeezed by her tight cunt hole, and then let her drop down again with a loud squelching sound, her juices dripping down his balls. They groaned in perfect unison. He lifted her up again.

“Can you come on Daddy’s cock, sweetheart?” he said.

She gasped. “Uh-huh! Of course.”

“You’re so sexy, baby, squeezing me so good, I’m not gonna last—”

“Come, Daddy. You know how much I love the feeling of you squirting deep inside me.”

She really did, and within a few more thrusts, he was. He held her tight against his chest and rubbed her clit furiously, for good measure, as he shot his seed against her immature womb. She hadn’t started her period yet, but they’d sure as hell be ready to breed her when the time came.

Dean wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again.

“Baby girl, my perfect girl,” he murmured against her mouth. “I love you so much.”

“Oh, daddy – I love you, I love you—”

Funny, he wasn’t hungry anymore. Not for food, anyway. He was cunt-hungry – ravenous after this little taste. All he wanted to do now was fuck his daughter again, or maybe eat her out – maybe with her bent over the back of the couch, while she and Sam watched _My Little Pony_. Yeah, those were some nice evening plans.

He stood up, turning Dean so she was facing him in his arms, his cock still inside her. Even softened – but not too soft, he never was around her – her tight pussy held him inside her easily.

“Thanks for dinner, Mare,” he said, as their daughter started to bounce on his cock again, and they left her to clean up.


End file.
